


Neal's New Anklet

by Fedora Of Adorableness (TheTimelessChild0)



Category: White Collar
Genre: Annoyed Neal Caffrey, Crack, Desperation, Embarrassment, Humor, Neal Caffrey's Tracking Anklet, Season/Series 04, Urination, science lessons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25941577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/Fedora%20Of%20Adorableness
Summary: The new anklet has an interesting feature; it can tell Peter when Neal is peeing. Hilarity ensues.
Kudos: 13
Collections: WC²





	Neal's New Anklet

The US Marshals, especially the ones under Kramer’s thumb, resented the fact that Neal Caffrey slipped away,  _ again _ . So when the Justice Department bargained for his return as a  _ relatively  _ free man, they had a stipulation; an upgraded anklet must be placed on him, one that can not just be cut. 

Which is what brought Peter and Elizabeth to this FBI tech fair, displaying various new anklets. 

“This is a waste of time, El. Neal either won’t tell the difference and try to cut it anyway, or cut it because it hurts worse than the first one I gave him” Burke wallowed, pointing at the ‘selection’. 

“Don’t tell the Marshals...and hey, if it’s the same, Neal won’t mind if it’s a newer model, it won’t make a difference to him,” his wife remarked.

They approached a table with variations on the sleek black one. 

The man at the counter asked what they were interested in. 

“Well, my CI wears very elegant outfits, so something that makes him feel less caged in or not feel it on his leg at all, would be best” Peter supplied.

“Then, you’re gonna want...this,” the vendor showed off a rounder anklet, with a softer inside. 

“Don’t worry, ma’am, it’s fake leather,” he assured Mrs Burke. “This has an accuracy that can tell you if the wearer is on a particular floor, or behind a door; five levels of encryption in the key, and added safety features,” 

“What do you mean safety features?” Peter wondered. 

“Well, do you see this little square here?” he pointed at a part of the inside, that didn’t match the rest of plastic, and stuck out on his own. 

“This is a sensor, that analyzes your body heat and through that, detects changes in blood pressure,” the seller advertised. 

“Like if he got shot,” Burke considered. 

“Ooh, already there, agent?”

“Not quite like you’re thinking...but hey, cushy is even better than sleek,” 

They decided it was worth it for the peace of mind. They also decided not to tell Caffrey. 

* * *

When Neal received his anklet he was overjoyed. Until he realised he couldn’t pick it...

Other than that, he seemed particularly happy in it. He seemed more confident while they were investigating cases. 

It had been an otherwise normal day, and Peter decided to check the anklet. He’d given his consultant enough  _ technically  _ unsupervised time since they got back from the island, Caffrey was probably up to mischief of some sort by now. 

By mere coincidence, the exact moment he opened up the tracking application, the screen beeped red, to register a drop in blood pressure. At first, Burke’s eyes widened in panic, then blinked as the BP returned to normal within just a few seconds. 

The handler ran out of his office to aid his friend. 

* * * * * * *

As far as Neal was concerned, it was an evening just like any other. He just sat down with a nice book, sketching Dobbs’ boats, and the diamonds from the David Cook sting. While drinking copious amounts of wine. 

Of course, that wine has to go somewhere, mainly  _ out of him _ , preferably in the bathroom. So the con man stood up and arranged his affairs, to a more comfortable atmosphere.

It felt so good he did a little shiver, smiling in relief. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter burst through the door to Neal’s penthouse, finding him sitting daintily at his table. 

“You’re okay?..” he sighed, surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Neal stood up, leaning on the kitchen counter curiously.

“Your new anklet...it detects drops in blood pressure,” Burke explained.

“I didn’t feel anything. How long ago was it?” he shrugged. 

“6 minutes ago. On the dot,” Peter read from the app on his phone. 

Neal squinted, concentrating. Then he remembered what he was doing exactly 6 minutes ago.

His lips joined together, holding back a chuckle. 

“Let me guess; it dropped for just a few  _ seconds _ ?” he guessed. 

“Yeah, how d’you know?” 

Neal looked up with a loud laugh, shaking his head.

“Jesus Christ. How did no one think of that?” Neal scoffed, amazed at the oversight. 

“Think of what?!” Peter was no less concerned at the event that his CI was currently brushing off. 

Neal indicated for them to sit down, brushing the hair on the back of his head awkwardly.

“There is one type of blood pressure drop that is perfectly normal. You’ve had your BP drop in the exact same way a million times, Peter,” he began.

“When?” 

“You know how sometimes when you pee, you shiver after finishing?” Neal queried. 

Peter frowned, but nodded.

“When you empty your bladder, blood flows into your kidneys, to eventually fill you up again,” he explained, like a scientist. 

“This decreases your blood pressure. But only very briefly, which is why you and  _ I  _ don’t feel it, when it happens,” 

Peter sat back in his chair. It hit him like a water balloon. 

“So wait, 6 minutes ago, you were...”

“Urinating,” Neal confirmed.

It was Peter’s turn to laugh.

“So. Your anklet knows when you’re peeing,” Burke smirked. 

“Apparently,” Neal rolled his eyes. “Guess they made it  _ too  _ accurate,” he quipped.

“You want a new one?” Peter checked, uncertainly. 

“Why did you phrase that as a  _ question _ ?” Caffrey kept an open mind. 

“Well...it didn’t technically screw up, it works. And you can’t say this won’t come in handy in the field either,” the Suit suggested. 

“Excuse me?” the con man replied indignantly. 

“Come on, we’ve all been there; you forget to go before you leave the office, get stuck in traffic, don’t want to say anything, because you think,”

“I should’ve thought of that  _ before _ I went out the door,” Neal finished the sentence. 

“I mean, it can’t be that bad if I forgot, right?” 

“Traffic will clear,” Peter chimed in. 

“No, it won’t,” both added in unison. Caffrey looked down, relating. 

There was silence. 

“Alright fine. It’s meant to be a safety feature, it’ll keep the state of my pants pretty safe. And my dignity,” he surrendered. 

“Better safe...than  _ sorry _ ,” Burke smiled.

* * *

Just like at the beginning of their relationship, Peter found a way to annoy Neal with his monitoring. He was the only person in the office who knew how long ago the younger man had relieved himself, and had the data to back it up. 

Every time they went out and he knew it had been long enough, he reminded him. And every time Neal said he was fine, the agent answered with an argument Caffrey couldn’t refute. 

“2 hours, and 47 minutes,” Peter cited. 

“I don’t need to go yet,” Neal insisted. 

“Not  _ yet _ ..but you will,” 

That was all it took to disprove the con man’s confidence. Sometimes it required a firm “ _ Neal. _ ” Or an additional “Are you sure?” to Caffrey’s constant chorus of “I’ll be fine”.

Another time, Neal pointed out how quickly they’d return.

“What if there’s traffic,” he pointed out.  _ Gotcha _ .

* * *

It didn’t take long for Peter to find out that Caffrey had been kidnapped. He’d gone out for a long time, and the location he was registered at didn’t make sense. Nor did the fact that he’d missed the most logical time for him to go to the bathroom, at a Starbucks on the street he went to originally. 

And even Mozzie didn’t drive that fast, except presumably when his friend needed a whizz, which was the case, and yet...no BP drop. 

Wherever he was, he was surely squirming. 

* * * * * * * 

Grinding against a chair,  _ actually _ . Neal continued to pray for the next people to enter being the FBI, and not his captors. Peter already knew the  _ situation _ , there’d be no use for pretence. 

_ Careful what you wish for. _

A SWAT team entered the building, searching for the captors wherever they’d gone. The FBI had a different crook on their mind. A barely continent one. 

“How’re you holding up?” Peter asked. 

“5 hours, 47 minutes and 32 seconds, rising for as long as I remain tied to this goddamn chair!” he whined, bending over once more, and  _ indeed _ , squirming. 

Peter was good with numbers, but Neal was  _ better _ ...

Jones got a tool to cut through the entire rope, freeing Caffrey who immediately put a hand into his crotch and ran. 

“God, I hope he makes it,” Clinton remarked. 

“Well, let’s see about that;” Burke got out his phone. 

It showed him reaching the correct door, and...his blood pressure dropping. 

“Yep,” he showed the good news to Diana and Jones who both laughed. 

The slightly red-faced man readjusted his fedora, and strode out the room with his head held high. 

  
He was  _ safe _ . And he always would be. Thanks to his anklet.


End file.
